


T'was the Night Before Christmas (A Visit from The Doctor)

by auchterlonie



Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Gen, Mrs. Hudson's past, Poetry, Sherlock Feels, Sherlock's choice, The Doctor on His Own, Wholock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2013-12-17
Packaged: 2018-01-04 22:23:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1086342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auchterlonie/pseuds/auchterlonie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A retelling of Twas the Night Before Christmas with Sherlock getting a visit from The Doctor</p>
            </blockquote>





	T'was the Night Before Christmas (A Visit from The Doctor)

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick little poem that wouldn't leave my head. It was written for a friend for Christmas. It's not my usual fandom, but I hope you enjoy it.

T’was the night before Christmas, John wrote in his blog,

While Sherlock looked out at the dense London fog;

Mrs. Hudson was sleeping, and John stifling his yawns,

But Sherlock’s brain raced with problems fit for mental brawn;

A blue box he’d seen not once or even twice,

But again and again, and no answer would suffice;

What business had a Police Box beside that dark lake?

Or that mansion, or that garden, or that dock, for Christ’s sake?  

No answer he’d dreamed up could settle the debate,

That raged in his brain-attic and kept him up late;

 

When down on the landing there arose so much chatter,

He sprang down the steps to see what was the matter;

Mrs. Hudson, it seemed, had heard it quite clear,

The whirring, and wizzing that she’d grown to fear;

“You get away, Doctor, you always bring trouble,

And leave London town in a bad state of rubble!;

Be gone, you pest! You’ll not take him from me,

Sherlock won’t go, he’ll stay in 221B!”

“My dear Mrs. Hudson,” Sherlock called to her, dear,

“Whatever it is, you’ll have nothing to fear;

I know who he is and I know of his game,

He’s the Doctor of legend and fairytale fame;

I’ll go with him now and sail across time,

And riddle, and puzzle, and solve a great crime”;

“But Sherlock, be careful,” she muttered and fussed,

“And come straight back home, You promise! You must!”

 

He smiled and nodded and walked towards his fate,

Knowing this Doctor could be a keen mate;

He stepped through the door and felt his mind blow,

The box was bigger inside, wouldn’t you know;

The Doctor stood smiling and looked a touch mad,

“Welcome aboard!” he shouted, “Now there’s a good lad;

I’m excited to meet you, I’ve read all your tales,

And when it comes to crime, Sherlock Holmes never fails;

And speaking of crime, I’ve got quite a doozy,

A crown’s been stolen from the Princess Altuzzi;

Armies are drawn and war surely beckons,

Unless, we can find it, that’ll stop it, I reckon;

So what do you say, Holmes, shall we give it a try?

Find a crown, stop a war, then take to the sky?

Come travel with me, I’ll fill your days with delight,

And mystery, and wonder, if that sounds alright?”

 

Sherlock stood and considered this strange man’s request,

Then smiled and straightened and said “Surely you jest”;

Mystery abounds, I have quite enough here,

To keep John and I busy for many a year;

You seek out companions but should know I’ve found mine;

He’s peculiar yet useful and he’s working out fine;

So I’ll stay here and solve all the problems with him,

And be happier, I think, then if I’d run on a whim;

But thank you, dear Doctor, and good luck with your case,

I’m sure you’ll find the crown amidst time and space”;

 

Then he stepped out the door and across Baker Street,

And back to Mrs. Hudson, who stood in stocking feet;

“Oh Sherlock,” she cried out with evident relief,

“You frightened me so, but I held my belief;

I knew that old Doctor would give you a line,

See, once upon a time, that Doctor was mine;

We traveled the stars, saw many wonderful things,

And also the trouble every one of them brings;

I loved my old Doctor, he took me to space,

But I’d rather have you, luv, right here in his place;”

Sherlock smiled and held her, then stepped through the door,

Then went up to find John, needing nothing more;

He’d solved a true puzzle and found what he’d sought,

A reason to stay with this family he’d got;

His mind it grew quiet as the problems went away,

And left him quite happy – well, in his own way;

John looked up and smiled, hadn’t noticed he’d gone,

“Happy Christmas, dear Sherlock,” “Happy Christmas, John.”

 


End file.
